


Page 213

by piecesofsolas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, F/F, Fingerfucking, Hawkelikespowerfulwomen, Hawketakescontrol, Kissing, Neck Kissing, PentaghastturnstopuddinginHawke'shands, Sensual Play, Vaginal Fingering, fem!slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piecesofsolas/pseuds/piecesofsolas
Summary: After a long day of training, Cassandra finds pleasure in a hot bath and her favorite book, Tales of the Champion. That is, until an unexpected guest arrives and turns those erotic images into reality.Written as part of Fen'Harem's FemSlash Feb.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Cassandra Pentaghast
Comments: 13
Kudos: 9
Collections: Femslash February, Fen'Harem's Femslash February 2021





	Page 213

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hezjena2023](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hezjena2023/gifts).



Hours of training in the sun had left Cassandra’s skin burnt and tight with a sheen of sweat trailing down the length of her neck and disappearing just below the curve of her neckline. The chest plate strapped to her chest was heavy and felt like molten fire as she pulled the heavy armor away from her body. It landed with a heavy thud on the wooden floor when she entered the building leading to the loft above. She untucked her shirt, using the ends to wipe her forehead.

The prospect of soaking in a tub of steaming water made her moan in anticipation. She struggled up the stairs, muscles crying, exhausted from the hours of training that she could barely make her legs work.

When she entered the landing, she was grateful that the Ambassador had already ordered the servants to fill the tub that she almost fell to her knees and wept. Exhausted, Cassandra leaned against the rails as she surveyed the progress, taking a moment to run through her drills and scanning her room, which consisted of a bedroll, a stack of books piled next to a candle, and her sword. It was not much, but it served its purpose.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” one of the servants asked. Her voice was soft and warm.

Cassandra shrugged. “No, thank you.” She watched as the last of the pail was brought up and the tub filled with water. Steam rose in puffs, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she imagined getting in and soaking her heavy muscles. 

“Well, we’ll leave you to it. Lady Josephine has ordered the building to be closed for privacy, and she said to tell you that the evening meal will be delivered in an hour.”

Cassandra nodded and made a mental note to thank the Ambassador for her kindness and thoughtfulness. After failing to protect the Inquisitor at Haven, she’d vented her frustration on her training dummies, destroying each until they splintered, straws flying into the ground. And when that did nothing to ease her stress, she entered the training arenas with Cullen and fought with his men.

Once the servants left, Cassandra wasted no time pulling off her boots and undressing, pulling her shirt over her head and sending it sailing across the room. She grabbed the latest edition of Tales of the Champion and stepped into the tub.

_Maker’s Breath - but it felt wonderful._

Every movement tightened her muscles, causing them to stretch and ache. Still, she inched down into the water until she submerged her body. Releasing a heavy sigh, Cassandra settled back against the side. 

This was better than anything she’d imagined. 

She closed her eyes and relaxed her tired, sore muscles. She let go of her responsibility, all except the incredible sensation of the water dancing against her skin. She sighed and settled her arms along the sides of the tub, then tipped her chin skyward so that her head rested against the back. The fire burning below sent heat up to where she rested, toasting her skin, and she relaxed even more. 

Sighing with pleasure, she glanced at the book in her hand. Bound in red leather, it was thick and heavy, and Cassandra had gone out of her way to purchase the book in the back alley of some tavern in Kirkwall. The spine was broken, and the book willingly opened to her favorite part. 

She must have read for what felt like hours. She was nearly asleep when the door below opened and closed with a loud thud. Annoyed at the disturbance, Cassandra groaned. Thinking it was the servant girl bringing her the evening meal, Cassandra barked orders for the tray to be left at the bottom steps, then closed her eyes and resumed her position. But the footsteps continued.

“I said, leave the tray --”

“Ahhhh … Cassandra Pentaghast. Varric told me I’d find you here.” A female voice said from the bottom steps.

Cassandra shrieked and sat up in the tub, covering her naked breasts with her hands. Water splashed against the brim, overflowing and spilling, making a mess of the wooden floor. Her gaze narrowed on the dark-haired female dressed in a simple white blouse and black breeches as she ascended. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Marian Hawke - at your service.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened, her jaw tight. “Hawke, what the hell are you doing here?”

Marian smiled. “And here I thought you’d be glad to see me. Considering you’ve spent half a year haunting me down … and threatening my friends.”

“That was because the Conclave exploded. If you hadn’t gone into hiding --”

Marian chuckled. A smooth, velvety sound that was pleasant to the ears, and it surprised Cassandra that this was the first time she’d met the woman, let alone heard her voice. 

“Not a chance,” Marian interrupted. “You’ve been hungry for my blood since Kirkwall’s rebellion. Had I come out of hiding, you would have threatened the lives of my friends to force my hand. Don’t deny it - I’ve dealt with your kind before.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and shook her head in mute denial. But she knew Hawke was right. In her desperation, Cassandra would have hunted down all of Hawke’s companions if she knew it would’ve saved the Divine.

“I see you’re a fan.”

Cassandra opened her eyes to find Hawke standing near the tub, her blue eyes glancing at the discarded book on the floor. “It's a horrible read.”

Marian studied the soft leather bindings of the book. It appeared worn and leathered and overused as if its owner had read it one too many times. “Horrid, but a favorite it seems.”

Carefully, Marian bent down to pick up the book and lazily flipped through the pages. Her thick lips curved into a grin as she scanned the pages Cassandra had marked. She scoffed when she realized all the pages were sexual in nature. When she read the latest page marked, Marian smiled tightly. 

“It’s not what you think,” Cassandra frowned. Forgetting her nakedness, she leaned forward, arms bracing the ends of the tub. “I bought the book to better understand you.” 

“And what did you discover?”

“That you didn’t want to be The Champion. You were forced —“

“Let me rephrase,” Marian interrupted. “What did you learn about me on page 213?” 

Cassandra's gaze widened, and she went still. Mouth dry. Heart pounding. The room went deathly quiet, and only the sound of rain hitting the rooftop could be heard. 

“Don’t be shy, Cassandra.” Marian dared. Her gaze landed on the puddles of water, then traced its way up the side of the tub until it landed on Cassandra’s eyes, then they descended to her lips, down to her chin. Lower and lower … 

Cassandra sucked in her breath when she found Marian’s gaze traveling past her neckline. Her nippled hardened underneath the water, its pink buds peeking out, ready to be touched. She didn’t move away or try to pretend that she didn’t like it either. 

For months now, Cassandra had fantasized about The Champion engaging in all sorts of sordid acts along with her - in the war room, on Josphine’s desk, even in the prisoner’s cells. The most recent one had her being taken against the statue of Andraste, with Hawke feasting between her legs as she cried to the Maker. 

It was wrong. Inappropriate. And it was all page 213’s fault. Or rather, Varric’s fault for writing such filth.

But as Hawke’s gaze darkened and traveled to her creamy breasts, Cassandra's body began to throb unexpectedly. And it wasn’t just her muscles that ached. She was struck with a sudden vulnerability that excited her. Power rippled through her, and she leaned back against the rim of the tub, exposing her breasts, legs angled and spread. 

Marian stood over the tub, looking at her naked body, her gaze stroking over her. “You never did answer my question,” she said. This time, her voice was huskier.

Cassandra blushed. A shade of pink that was a mixture of embarrassment and awe. “Varric wrote that you brought the Knight-Captain to her knees by — by —“

“By laying her flat on her back and worshiping her honey warmth with my tongue?” 

Cassandra’s chin trembled, and she pressed her lips together to curve her nervousness. It wasn’t that she was afraid. Far from it. She was excited. She’d read the page a dozen times and had memorized every single line and detail. It was erotic, sinful, and left her wet each time she finished reading. But it was the last part that left her aching at night and finding release with her own fingers. 

* * *

_“Spread your thighs for me, Knight-Commander. Let me taste what you have to offer.”_

_The Knight-Commander gasped and arched her hips as Hawke lowered her mouth._

_Beginning at the knees, Hawke licked a wet trail to the soft patch of golden curls between the Knight-Commanders legs. The commander smelled of sin - a touch of sugar and burnt leather - and cheap wanton behavior, and Hawke bit the inside of her creamy thighs, making sure to mark her claim. “You spend your days commanding others. Telling them what to do. How to behave. And yet, I know that deep inside your whorish heart, you just want to feel dirty. Tonight, you are mine to control.”_

_To seal her vow,_ _Hawke licked at the entrance to the tight, straining bud shelter under the hood of Meredith’s flesh. Gently, Hawks sucked at the tiny mound and then flicked her tongue back over it, coaxing it to a hardened point._

_Meredith’s moans echoed into the night, earning her another stroke of tongue. She reached for the bedsheets and clutched them tightly. She felt her petals, already swollen with honey, spread wide as Hawke sampled the nectar. She barely had time to catch her breath when she felt a finger slip inside her wet cunt._

_Gentle at first, then with more pressure, Hawke’s finger pierced inside her, thrusting and fucking her like a two-sovereign whore at the Blooming Rose._

_“Call me Champion when you come,” Hawke commanded as she slipped another finger inside her._

* * *

  
  


“Pentaghast?”

Cassandra snapped back to the present. Embarrassed that she’d lost her train of thought, she managed to respond despite her throat going dry. “H-Hawke.”

“Would you like me to go?”

Cassandra’s cheeks burned. _No, I want to be marked, too_. And she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Marian knelt down by the tub. Cassandra moved to cover her breasts. 

“No, do not shy away from me,” Marian said. She untangled Cassandra’s arms, exposing her perfectly round breasts. Taking the cloth that hung limply from the edge of the tub, Marian lathered it with soup, then pressed it against Cassandra’s neck and began the process of bathing her. 

Despite the warmth of the weather and the fire from the hearth, Cassandra felt a slight chill run down her spine. A familiar, erotic feeling she’d felt many times when reading page 213.

The scent of lavender filled the air as Marian lathered her hands and replaced the cloth with her fingers. Slowly, she brushed the soap against Cassandra’s breast, then accidentally brushed a nipple. 

Cassandra gasped. Her breathing sped up. She watched as Marian cupped both of her breasts in her palms, her thumbs slowly brushed over its peaks. She weighed them, massaged them tenderly. The dual sensations of thumbs brushing against her nipples had Cassandra arching slightly. 

“You are so beautiful,” Marian whispered. “Powerful. Dangerous. Full of fire and light.” Her husky whisper hummed over Cassandra’s ears, and her eyes glittered as she lowered her head towards one breast.

Cassandra’s knees buckled, and she would have collapsed back into the tub were it not for Hawke’s hand on her arm. Pulling her forward, Hawke’s mouth found a nipple and took one in her mouth. 

“Maker …” Cassandra gasped. 

Marian moved to her other breast and flickered her tongue out. It raised over the sensitive point and sent shivers of pleasure down Cassandra’s spine. 

Cassandra was lost in heat and burning lust. She wanted to feel Marian’s hand on her, to feel her fingers inside of her. To stroke and tease and demand … like page 213.

“Hawke …” 

“My name is Marian,” Hawke whispered as she pressed her lips into Cassandra’s neck. She nibbled on the soft skin, sucking it lightly as she waited. “Say my name, Seeker.”

“M-Marian …”

“That’s a good girl.” 

The Champion's name on her lips felt intimate, and a wave of heat unexpectedly hit Cassandra. She turned her head. Her lips found Marian's in a scorching kiss of fiery greed and want. Gentle at first, then burning with fire. The kiss turned hungry and demanding. She felt hands on her breasts, pressing and molding, teasing with skill. 

“Please …” Cassandra’s hands clasped the back of Marian’s head. “I need - I want ....”

“Do you want me to touch you … down there, Pentaghast?”

“Yes.”

Cassandra whimpered as Marian took a nipple in her mouth. She sucked steadily, nibbled with her teeth as her hand slid underneath the water. Fingers made their way to the heat between Cassandra’s legs, and she waited with anticipation. 

Marian’s released a nipple and brought her lips to Cassandra's, hovering over them. Not touching, just letting the Seeker know who was in control. Then her fingers moved to the entrance, her finger dancing just above the bud. “No, don’t close your eyes. I want to watch you shatter.” 

As commanded, Cassandra opened her eyes and held her breath. 

Carefully, Marian parted the folds and placed her finger between them, tracing the slit as if etching it to memory. Cassandra jolted up, breath hitched, but it died in her throat as Marian inserted a finger into the opening of her body and thrust deep.

Marian breathed heavily against Cassandra’s lips, watching, waiting for desire to consume. 

Cassandra leaned back, her hips arching to the delicious rhythm that was set. The sensation spun her like magic, engulfed her in a wave of energy, and she’d felt as if she were in battle, muscle taut and tight. Ready to strike. 

Marian inserted another finger, and Cassandra’s eyes rolled back. She felt the Champion’s fingers curled inside her, the press of a thumb against her sensitive thumb. Erotic images of the two intertwine in bed flash before her. Erotic words, sinful words, dirty words, pressed into her skin. She was on a euphoric high. The pressure in her body heightened - stretched thin - pulling at her towards the edge until her body peaked. 

Cassandra cried out and she shattered. She seemed to come apart against Marian’s fingers. 

Marian watched in awe as the waves of pleasure swept Cassandra away. Her cheeks pinked, and she looked flushed. Her eyes - a mixture of green and gold - darkened and brightened like the stars at night as her body jerked uncontrollably. It was the most beautiful, powerful thing Marian had ever seen. It was addicting and sung to her like a lyrium-infused dream. 

Marian’s gaze landed on the empty bedroll and shifted back to Cassandra’s, who was slowly drifting back to reality. Images of Cassandra flat on her back, legs draped around her head, as she milked the cum of release made her mouth watered. 

“Cassandra?” Marion said dryly. She brought her hand to the back of Cassandra’s nape and tilted her head back, exposing the length of her white neck. Already, a small, red imprint in the shape of her lips was forming against Cassandra’s delicate flesh. “Can you handle more?"

Cassandra only managed to moan softly.

“Good," Marion said thickly. "Now ... what about page 136?”


End file.
